Civilization and its Malcontents
by Kerry Joyce
illustration by Chris Clodgo
A Spectator’s Guide To World War I, Part 2
MALEVOLIK – Things have not gone well for Telemachos Zeno and his Calypso Bar and Grill recently. Located here, in this war torn village, in war torn North Central Bosnia-Herzegovina, Malevolik is a powder keg, nestled between twin peaks and lodged in the heart of a cultural and political fault line. Just one of many, coursing through the Balkan Peninsula – a region that is to state craft what the Yugo was to automobiles.
In better times, Telemachos’ grandfather Laertes served Archduke Francis Ferdinand himself. His highness was so happy with the quality fare that he went out and flapped his arms like a bird in an open convertible. The Archduke was promptly shot dead by a Bosnian Serb nationalist (some say hunting enthusiast), which sparked the beginning of World War I, Part 1.
Even the days when his father Odysseus ran the establishment, and was once flogged and spat upon by a security detail for serving Yugoslav strongman Josef Broz Tito a lukewarm cup of chicken with stars soup, were relatively happy times.
Sure, the Serbs long despised the Zeno family for speaking Albanian, and the Albanians mistrusted them for their Greek heritage, but until recently, business was good and the patrons, mostly amicable.
But today, things do not sit well for Telemachos and his family. The spritely colored toothpicks that once adorned their club sandwiches were long ago burned for firewood. The little umbrellas that topped The Calypso’s renowned Pina Coladas, now serve as shelter for the tiny offspring born prematurely of mothers who literally quaked with fear at the sound of artillery shells bursting overhead.
Silent are the five color television sets, which previously live-broadcasted soccer matches from all over the world. The Calypso’s satellite dish now runneth over with black market Kibbles ‘N Bits. It was seized outright by the commandant of an elite Serbian atrocities unit for use as a feeding dish for his pregnant Doberman bitch, Ratko. The village’s only cable installer has been missing in action for over three months.
Silent too is the once happily percolating Fryolater. Until two months ago, it helped prepare the best french fries east of the Adriatic. But today, virtually every potato in Bosnia has been commandeered by rebel forces who rely upon them as ammunition for their utterly humiliating and occasionally bruising “spud guns.”
With a price tag equivalent to 18 U.S. dollars, even an ordinary hamburger at the Calypso, made from extra lean beef imported from Somalia, is well beyond affordability for even most Serbian Army officers, who have seen their raping and pillaging privileges curtailed in recent months. The Calypso now serves mostly a handful of small children who work as badly needed doe-eyed white kids in TV commercials for the Save The Children Foundation. A hamburger bun made from Bangladeshi cassava roots adds an additional three dollars to the already exorbitant cost.
Who cares about the Zeno family and their petty domestic problems? Nobody west of the Adriatic, apparently, with the exception of a few history, political science, and sociology professors. Those instructors will likely shake their heads in dismay this semester at the ignorance of you and your classmates. So if you don’t know a Serb from a Croat, read on, it might help you get a better grade. If you’re not in college, it could help you pass yourself off as the concerned intellectual type at the next keg party.
According to Arnold Toynbee in A Study of History, of the 21 civilizations that have ever existed, only five remain. Three of these civilizations – the Western, the Byzantine and the Islamic – are all represented, to a great extent, on the Balkan Peninsula. This cultural overlapping may help explain why the civilized peoples from these three great, but differing, traditions now behave worse than animals.
Sure, America is multi-cultural too. But only one culture has mortars and field artillery – the Western Civilization of Lincoln, Jefferson, Brigham Young, the 82nd Airborne, the 12th Precinct, and the Michigan Militia.
And yet, after World War II, a Croatian named Josef Broz Tito, everyone’s favorite communist dictator, somehow forged the Balkans into a nation, mostly by playing the various factions against one another like a violin, and only occasionally, like a jack hammer. Under Tito, the country was ruled under the principle of divide and conquer; after he died Yugoslavia reverted to the principle of divide and grab what you can.
The Peoples and Places*
Yugoslavia – Youngest nation in Europe, also the fastest shrinking. Five years ago it was slightly larger than Minnesota. Since 1990, four regions have broken off into independent countries. Now half as large, it consists of Serbia, a couple of semi-autonomous principalities (yeah, right), and Montenegro.
Serbia and Croatia – The two odds-on favorites in Yugoslavia’s deadly game of musical chairs. They look alike, they talk alike, they hate each others guts. They “ethnic cleanse” alike too, both considering themselves the soap, the other the dirt.
Serbian president Slobodan Milsosevic has in mind a “Greater Serbia,” (by which he means bigger, not better). It would incorporate parts of other Balkan countries, including chunks of Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina. Croatian dictator Franjo Tudjman has designs on Western Bosnia himself.
Despite the superficial similarities, the Serbs and Croats do go to different churches. And they use different alphabets. (When they put down their guns long enough to read or write.) That’s more than you can say for the hair splitting haters of Northern Ireland. There, the hostile parties have to rely on such subtle differences as the pronunciation of the letter “h.” Catholics pronounce it “haitch,” Protestants, the right way. (And they’ll know we are Christians by our “h”?)
Bosnia – Like Kuwait, the inhabitants are predominately Muslim. Unlike Kuwait, Allah neglected to bless the land with rich oil deposits. Ergo, they’re fucked from a Seventh Fleet, F-16, M-1 Abrams Armored Personnel Carrier standpoint. Or at least they were until recently. NATO finally decided to “take sides,” after three bloody years. (Must have required a lot of soul searching.) Since 1990, The Serbs and Croats have treated the Bosnians like 19th century Native Americans: Move ’em out, and if they resist, wipe ’em out. Maybe Bosnia can look forward to a casino or two in about a hundred years.
Slovenia – Buffered from the rest of this hell on earth by their cultural kindred, the militarily powerful Croatians. Maybe if they’re very quiet, everyone will forget about them.
Trieste – These days, Trieste prefers being kind of Northeastern Italy (again) to being kind of Northwestern Yugoslavia (again). Can’t say I blame them.
Albanians – Sizable minority without any sizable territory or army to match. Personally, I’d rather live in the Bronx. Thousands of Albanian immigrants already do.
Jews – Scarcely a handful. Not nearly enough, however implausibly, to blame for everything. This only adds to the confusion.
Macedonia – Oldest nation in Europe. The country’s historic high point came between 400 and 300 B. C. when Aristotle’s prize pupil, Alexander the Great, conquered the then-known world. Alexander of Macedon marched his army 11,000 miles east to India, laying claim to everything along the way, before dropping dead of fever and exhaustion at age 33. (And with just two payments left on his student loans.)
After his death, the usual chaos ensued. Since then, Macedonia has been overrun at various times by the Goths, the Huns, the Turks, the Bulgars, the Vandals, the Slavs, and the Knickers, a small band of British deserters whose flag bore small pink rosebuds on a field of white cotton.
Macedonia declared itself an independent republic four years ago. Now, however, the Southern region wants to be part of Greece. The Eastern part yearns to unite with Bulgaria, (are you still with me?), and the nation of Greece takes umbrage with any country calling itself Macedonia. It seems that’s their name for a disputed region of Northern Greece (Southern Macedonia). The quick-thinking U.N. invented a compromise: Macedonia was accepted into the family of nations with the moniker: “Former Yugoslav Republic of Macedonia.” F.Y.R.O.M. for short, I guess.
The only respite the Zenos family has from their troubles is an occasional letter from Telemachos’ brother, Alex, an insufferable braggart with 18 car washes in America, a land where people spent $50 to watch an ex-con pummel a human punching bag for a minute and a half on television. It seems to Telemachos that these Americans would gladly pay $21 for a Somalian burger on a Bangladeshi bun. But sadly, Alex informed him in a recent correspondence that “no,” the Calypso will not be opening a franchise in Chicago any time soon.
* all prices and products subject to change without notice
